


Random Encounter

by hwshipper



Series: The Chris 'Verse [2]
Category: House M.D., No Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwshipper/pseuds/hwshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House meets somebody who interests him. Walk-on appearance by my recurring OMC Chris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Random Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta**: the excellent [](http://starlingthefool.livejournal.com/profile)[**starlingthefool**](http://starlingthefool.livejournal.com/)
> 
> This is early career House (pre-Stacy, pre-infarc). Set about a year after House &amp; Wilson first encountered Chris in [Let Me Take You To A...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/64197/chapters/84744).  
> For [](http://lana-ftw.livejournal.com/profile)[**lana_ftw**](http://lana-ftw.livejournal.com/) who noticed the resemblance last time :)

House had been seeing Dan on and off for a few months when he encountered somebody interesting.

They'd agreed to meet at a roadside diner on a Saturday night. The diner happened to be one of Chris's establishments, which House was generally keen to avoid for fear of running into the proprietor; but Dan assured House that it was safe as there was no way Chris would be there, he was invariably at his club on Saturdays.

House was five minutes drive away when he got an apologetic phone call from Dan; he'd been delayed at work, a woman had come in late in the day in need of emergency low lights.

"Contradiction in terms," House objected. "I'm a doctor, _I _have emergencies. A hairstyle cannot be an emergency."

"Try telling her that." Dan sounded amused. "Go ahead and eat, I'll be about half an hour, probably."

House wasn't particularly hungry when he arrived at the diner, and decided to drink coffee and wait instead. He got coffee, sat down and made himself comfortable. He then cast his eye around the room, and his eyes widened at the sight of a man at a side table.

The man sat, a coffee and a half eaten muffin on the table in front of him, doodling on the back of a large manila envelope. At least, doodling was one way to describe it; actually it looked like some kind of architectural drawing being crafted with great skill and draftsmanship. But that wasn't what caught House's attention. What caught House's incredulous eye was a marked resemblance to Wilson.

They weren't anywhere near being twins or anything like that. But there was a definite similarity. House had been gazing at Wilson for far too many years not to notice the jaw line very like Wilson's, the similar slope of the shoulders, the virtually identical sleek glossy hair. House remembered that this diner was one of Chris's establishments, and drew the obvious conclusion.

This must be Edward. Chris's ex.

No, not an ex any more, they'd got back together, House recalled. Wilson had been sent a photograph. How interesting.

House swept another eye over the intent young man with the pen. No wonder Chris had been drawn towards Wilson. Without the glasses—slightly geeky dark rimmed spectacles—they would look really quite alike. Especially in a dim bedroom light.

House picked up his coffee, stood up and strolled across the room. He dropped casually into the seat opposite Edward.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," the man said, not looking up from his sketch. Black ink flowed across the paper, tracing walls and the line of a roof.

"You're Edward, right?" House asked, feeling the need to confirm.

"That's right." Edward looked up. He had a charming, open smile; not unlike Wilson's, and large brown eyes behind the specs. His hair fell down slightly over one eye. "Sorry, have we met? I'm not very good with faces. Or names."

"I'm Greg House," House said, and offered a hand, overcoming his natural disinclination to do so. "Call me House. I know Chris." Kind of.

The man beamed and shook hands. "Right. Chris knows lots of people, I never remember everyone. Nice to meet you. Hey, Chris should be here in a minute, you can say hello."

"Really?" House was a little uneasy. "I thought he would be at his club tonight?"

"He should be," Edward agreed. "But my car broke down on the freeway." He gave a comical sigh, and House gathered that perhaps this kind of thing happened a lot to Edward. "I got towed to a garage, and then got a cab here. Chris said he'd come by and pick me up." He arched the pen across the paper. "What do you think of this? It's a new commission, guy wants a glass office in his back garden."

House looked at the drawing. He had no particular opinion about it, other than that Edward could certainly draw. "Anyone who wants a glass office in their back garden is clearly clueless to start with."

"Oh, I'm working on persuading him that he never wanted glass in the first place," Edward said solemnly. "So long as he believes it was his idea, I think I can convince him timber with some big glass windows will be much more appropriate."

"You're an architect," House said in fascination.

Edward nodded. "For my sins."

He added a door handle to the drawing, then squinted at it, and his glasses slid slightly down his nose. He reached up and plucked the spectacles off, and House couldn't help but inhale a little more sharply than usual. Without the glasses, Edward looked very like Wilson. From a certain angle, anyway. House wanted to reach up and touch Edward's hair, muss it up a little out of that side parting, see how much he could get him to look like Wilson.

House restrained himself with an effort.

Edward polished his glasses absent-mindedly on a table napkin, peering critically at the drawing, then propped them back on his nose. He immediately looked much less like Wilson, but still, House thought, fucking adorable.

"So, what do you design?" House asked.

Edward shrugged. "Whatever people want. Houses, mostly, everybody round here wants a beachfront house with big glass windows."

House could have happily gone on talking to Edward and watching him draw for a long time, but at that moment the diner door opened, and in came a man with fair hair and gray eyes, wearing a black leather biker's jacket and pants with a tight white T-shirt. Chris, looking almost exactly the same as when he'd engaged Wilson in conversation at that bar the first time they'd met, a year ago.

For a second House was struck by the idea of turning the tables on Chris in the most delicious way. To have Chris walk in and find House making a move on his precious Edward, the same way House had walked into that bar to find Chris leaning all over Wilson and undressing him with his eyes.

House didn't do anything, because he really couldn't see Edward responding favorably--House would be rebuffed, and that would just be embarrassing. But it was a pleasant idea, and part of House did dwell for a minute on what it might be like to have Edward, devoid of those spectacles, naked and sweating beneath him. He then envisaged Wilson there too--_Christ, _what a thought, both together, just imagine. Which way to look--

He was caught up in this reverie when Chris appeared at their table, looking at House with the utmost incredulity. Chris then glanced sideways, scanning the room. Wondering if Wilson was also around, House guessed.

"Hey, Chris." Edward's voice was happy, and he and Chris greeted one another with a kiss. Brief but affectionate, the two of them clearly comfortable being openly together in this place. House supposed there was no point owning a restaurant unless you could do what you damn well wanted in it.

Chris sat down, slinging a protective arm around Edward's shoulder. Edward gestured towards House and said, "You know House?"

"Yeah," Chris sounded cautious.

Edward didn't appear to notice. Instead he turned his full attention onto Chris (who looked intently back; House could see this was a mesmerizing state to be in), and said, "Sorry to make you drive all the way out here. I was stupid. The engine was making a strange sound this morning, I should've gone to the garage earlier…"

"It's no problem." Chris flicked an affectionate hand through Edward's hair. House watched, and wondered if Edward's hair felt as silky smooth as Wilson's always did. Suddenly he understood absolutely how Chris had been so immediately drawn to Wilson: it wasn't just a superficial likeness, they both had the same irresistible fuckability about them.

Edward's cell rang, and he looked at the caller display and exclaimed. "Client. Have to take this—"

He rose to his feet and headed a few paces away, picking up the call.

As soon as they were alone, Chris leaned over slightly towards House and said evenly, "Don't even think about it."

"About what?" House was wide-eyed.

"Lay a finger on him and I'll break your dick off."

"Oh, charming." House was righteously indignant. "So you can come along and fuck the hell out of my boyfriend, but I can't so much as look at yours without a threat of violence. What's the difference?"

"Edward does what he wants to do," Chris said, and his expression softened a little just at the mention of the name. "But if you come onto him behind my back, all bets are off and I'll beat the crap out of you."

House shook his head in disgust. "I wonder what would your darling Edward say if I told him you'd picked up me and Wilson last year for a good hard threesome fuck?"

Chris's mouth quirked upwards in amusement. "He'd ask to see pictures, and failing that, a re-enactment. I told him about it, House. Though not your names."

"Hmph." House was left momentarily speechless.

"How is Wilson, anyway?" Chris asked, and House observed Chris's face soften a little at Wilson's name in the same way as it had for Edward. House resolved never to let Chris meet Wilson again, if he could help it.

"He's okay," House said shortly. "Still married. Unlike your precious Edward, I guess, now he's back with you?"

"Edward's still married," Chris said, and this time a shadow passed over his face. "He's asked for a divorce. She won't give him one."

House snorted in disbelief. "Not even with _you_ giving him one?"

Chris smiled a humorless smile. "Nope. She hates my guts… won't give me the satisfaction of winning. Argues it's just a phase he's going through and he'll come crawling back to her at some point…"

"As he probably will," House said meanly, and apparently this was a perceptive comment as Chris looked away for a few seconds.

"Wilson's not here, is he?" Chris asked, and House took the change of subject as confirmation he was close to the bone.

"No. Just as well, as the universe might spontaneously combust if the doppelgangers came face to face," House said dryly.

Chris waited, but when it became clear that House wasn't going to volunteer any more information about Wilson, shrugged. "Fine. Say hello from me."

"Yup." House knew he wouldn't. He didn't want to explain the circumstances, didn't want to tell Wilson about Dan, and he certainly didn't want Wilson to think about getting in touch with Chris. Wilson was quite busy enough right now, trying to salvage his marriage with Bonnie, without being distracted by any of this. Let it lie, let it just be remembered as that most peculiar and hot two-night stand with a stranger on the Jersey coast.

Edward joined them again, shaking his head about the phone conversation. "Sorry about that. This guy—he's just stuck on stucco. Won't listen to a word I say." He dropped back into his chair and put a hand on the small of Chris's back. "Have you had dinner, Chris? Because I haven't, we could eat here?"

House was immediately concerned; Dan was likely to walk in any minute. Not that House cared particularly if they knew he was meeting Dan; but the prospect of the four of them making conversation for any length of time was just too appalling to think about.

Fortunately Chris was clearly not inclined to spend any more time with House than he had to. "No, l want to get home, we can pick up some food on the way. Quizno's, perhaps?"

"Quizno's? Fantastic!" Edward said, sounding amused, and House felt there was an in-joke there somewhere. "Shall we go, then?"

"Sure." Chris smiled a hugely affectionate smile, and goddamnit if they didn't kiss again. House didn't hide his eyeroll.

Chris and Edward left, Edward with a hand on Chris's shoulder, and Chris reaching up to grasp that hand. On their way out of the door, they passed Dan, going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Chris," Dan said in surprise.

"Hey, Dan, good to see you." Chris paused, and looked back towards House with the utmost curiosity. It was obvious that Dan had arrived to meet House, but Chris plainly wasn't about to ask about it, nor Dan to explain. House met Chris's eye; Chris shrugged, and was gone.

Dan dropped into the chair opposite House. "Well, I thought you might be bored waiting for me, but looks like you've had an interesting time. They're cute together, aren't they?"

"Actually, I was in danger of vomiting if I had to watch them being lovey dovey much longer," House declared.

"Bullshit." Dan grinned and leaned back in his chair, shoulders back and arms flung to each side, feet spread and his left foot just nudging House's under the table. "You're just wondering how much Edward would be like Wilson, if he had his clothes off."

"For that, you're buying dinner," House said, and signaled to the waitress for a menu.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Dan's story told in [Barber Surgeon](http://archiveofourown.org/works/71709).


End file.
